


Spellbound

by fatalchild



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalchild/pseuds/fatalchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is cursed with a strange affliction, but the only way to make it better is to make it worse.<br/>SRS2013: Bonus Round 3 -- Prompt: "One or both characters are cursed with extreme lust by Temperantia (Roman goddess), but if they engage in sexual acts it will extend the duration of the curse each time by an hour. If they practice temperance, the curse will lift dependent upon how many times they engaged."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spellbound

The first thing Castiel noticed was the heat. It was thick and solid, pressing down upon him with a sickeningly oppressive weight. He struggled to shake himself out of sleep, groaning at the heaviness he felt in his limbs. The discomfort spread, but it didn’t concern him at first. All he could think of was the heat. Castiel peeled himself off the couch and turned down the hallway. He needed… he needed… _something_. 

The door creaked when he pushed it open, dark brows knitted in something of a scowl. Lucifer was awake, of course. Lucifer didn’t have to sleep, Castiel remembered with a hint of bitterness. He was still radiant, still beautiful and full of grace. 

“What’s the matter?” Lucifer asked, looking up from the heavy tome he was reading. 

“It’s hot,” Castiel mumbled, shuffling across the room and climbing up onto Lucifer’s lap, leaning against him with a soft sigh. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You’re cold.” 

Lucifer tensed slightly, shifting his weight in discomfort. “It’s… the Cage… Hell was—“ 

“It feels good,” Castiel whispered, unbuttoning Lucifer’s collar and nuzzling against the soft, cool curve of his neck. He took a deep breath and decided instantly that he liked the smell of Lucifer’s skin, something like cold and rain and the stars. A low groan reverberated in the back of Castiel’s throat, and he began to roll his hips down. 

“Castiel…?” 

“Please.” 

“What are you—“ 

“ _Please_.” Castiel dragged his teeth over the sharp line of Lucifer’s jaw as he pulled apart the line of buttons of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders. 

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, hands cradling Castiel’s waist, fingers slipping into his waistband. 

“You are warm,” he said softly, pushing the soft pajama pants down. 

“Yes,” Castiel murmured, leaning back, tilting his hips up to press into Lucifer’s hand. His lashes fluttered as his eyes closed, rolling back with a soft, blissful sigh. 

Lucifer curled his fingers around, stroking Castiel with a soft grip and an easy rhythm, surprised at how hot and slick his skin already was. He delighted in how Castiel shuddered, hips jerking in response. 

“Harder,” Castiel panted, head thrown back. 

Lucifer watched him curiously, watched how hungry and needy he was, watched how his body arched and writhed at every small touch. Overheated, overexcited, oversensitive, Castiel was like putty in his hands, and once Lucifer gave in to his request, it didn’t take long at all. Castiel’s trembling fingers pressed into Lucifer’s shoulders as he struggled to hold his balance with the way he was moving in the archangel’s lap. His breath hitched, voice catching in his throat in a series of tiny moans that Lucifer adored. He watched the way Castiel’s brows twisted together, lips moving silently (yes, yes, yes) before his mouth simply fell open, almost in surprise. He sat trembling, eyes closed and lips still open, for several minutes before he caught his breath. 

“I… apologize. I don’t know what came over me.” 

Lucifer arched his eyebrows, still idly stroking Castiel’s thighs. “I can’t say I’m inclined to complain…”

Castiel frowned. “I’m dizzy…”

“It’s late.” 

“But…”

“Shh…” Lucifer kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair back. “We have time. You rest now.” 

Castiel made a face, but he was tired, more than he thought he should be, so he kissed Lucifer’s face and made his way up to bed. It was warm and soft and perfect, easily lulling him into a deep sleep that lasted no time at all. He woke hot and hungry and hard, confused as to his body’s sudden insistence. He didn’t have much time to think about it. He could feel Lucifer downstairs, grace shining like a beacon even more than usual. Nearly tripping over himself, Castiel tumbled off the bed and traipsed down the stairs. 

Coffee was one of Lucifer’s so-called “human vices”, so it was no surprise when Castiel found him in the kitchen, stirring cream into a large mug. 

“Morning,” Lucifer said, smiling. “I was going to make you some--” 

The force of Castiel’s lips on his cut him off. Lucifer caught Castiel by one shoulder, keeping enough distance to prevent him from spilling hot coffee between them, trying to set the cup aside without pulling away from the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered, breathless. 

“I need you,” Castiel panted, mouth already open against Lucifer’s neck, teeth dragging along the lightly stubbled curve. 

“But you--” 

“Now. Please.” Castiel turned his face up for another kiss. 

He was met with a hard press of slightly cool lips against his own. The night before had been confusing, quick and needy and leaving Lucifer completely untouched and unsatisfied, a condition he was content to remedy now. His hands gripped Castiel’s tapered waist, turning him around and lifting him effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. Castiel gasped in surprised, holding Lucifer’s shoulders to stabilize himself against the way that everything seemed to spin for a moment. He tilted his head back, letting Lucifer push his shirt off his shoulders as he bent to kiss the flush of heat creeping down his neck and chest. Castiel squirmed, wriggling his hips and feeling oddly impatient. Lucifer just chuckled, nipping Castiel’s stomach as he worked his way down, teeth and tongue tracing the stark line of Castiel’s hipbone. 

Castiel bit his lip, watching Lucifer’s mouth trail kisses up the inside of his thigh. He usually enjoyed it, loved the slow burn of affection that made it feel like this was more than just sex, but now, now he just felt impossibly hot and unable to tolerate much teasing. He pushed his hands down on the counter, leveraging himself forward and tilting his hips in invitation. Lucifer glanced up at him, an absurdly mischievous grin across his lips before they parted around the tip of Castiel’s erection. 

“Lucifer, _please_ ,” Castiel gasped, fingers gripping the counter again. 

He blinked his eyes placidly, swirling his tongue once before pulling off. “What do you want, little one?” 

“You,” Castiel whispered, reaching forward to grip his shirt and pull him closer. “I want you.” 

Lucifer smiled, lifting his arms to allow his shirt to be removed and tossed aside before closing the gap between them. He slicked his fingers with a thought, sliding them into Castiel’s body at the same time he was kissing his mouth open again, sharing breath and swallowing soft moans. He added in another finger, pushed them apart, worked Castiel open as he curled his fingers to lightly stroke his prostate. 

“I’m ready. Come on.” 

Lucifer glanced up, lips trailing over Castiel’s neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” Castiel said, fumbling to position himself properly. “Please.” 

Lucifer’s hands moved down Castiel’s sides, resting at his hips to hold him steady as he pushed inside him. It was slow and easy, everything Castiel adored between them and the promise of so much more. His body arched, nails digging into Lucifer’s back, clinging to ground himself as Lucifer’s tenuous control began to slip, each thrust of his hips coming harder and faster than the one before it. His fingers tangled in the disheveled mess of Castiel’s dark hair, pulling him back and forcing his face up so that he could catch him in another kiss, this one open mouthed, panting and biting and near bruising Castiel’s lips. Castiel lay back across the countertop, bending his knees back and wrapping his legs up around Lucifer’s waist as best he could, trying to pull him closer, trying to urge him on. Red lines had broken out across Lucifer’s back, beneath Castiel’s fingers, but neither one of them noticed them for the way Castiel was moaning and panting his brother’s name, spurring him on with little whispers of, Yes. More. Just like that. Don’t stop. Please. Right there. Oh, brother, _please_. 

Lucifer answered him in a series of languages Castiel couldn’t quite recall. He told Castiel he loved him, told him how he was beautiful, how he was perfect, how he felt so good. Castiel didn’t need to catch every word to understand. Lucifer communicated well enough with his tone, with soft presses of his lips between words, with the way his fingers combed through Castiel’s hair, pausing to cup his cheek before sliding down between their bodies. A few short strokes had Castiel spilling across his stomach, Lucifer mere seconds behind him. 

They stayed like that, lying quietly, for a long time, Lucifer draped across Castiel’s body, head bowed against his shoulder. As he caught his breath, Lucifer glanced up at Castiel, frowning at how he had covered his eyes with the back of his arm. 

“Do you feel bad again?” 

“Not bad… Strange, perhaps.” 

“...This was a mistake.” 

“No,” Castiel said quickly, reaching to grab Lucifer’s shoulders and keep him from moving away. “It wasn’t. I wanted… Don’t go.” 

Lucifer sighed heavily, laying his head back down and closing his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to heal Castiel. Due to the complicated nature of Castiel being almost fallen and thus stubbornly immune to such things, it could be exhausting, and they had an unspoken arrangement: life or death only. It wasn’t healing just to check, though. Lucifer’s fingers brushed Castiel’s skin, grace searching until he found the unfamiliar humming energy and everything clicked into place. 

***

The next twelve hours were some of the longest of his life. Lucifer figured it out quickly enough, easily able to sense and decode pagan magic when he focused, but he was extremely frustrated to find that he couldn’t break the spell. The only way to break it was simply not to give into it, and Lucifer cringed to think how many times he’d already made it worse. When Castiel woke from his nap and tried to crawl into Lucifer’s lap again, Lucifer marched him into a cold shower and stayed on the other side of the door in spite of his pleas. 

They sat on opposite sides of the couch, watching a documentary on plant life simply because it was the unsexiest thing Lucifer could find on television. 

“This is torture,” Castiel groaned, shifting uncomfortably. “Are you really sure it’s--” 

“Yes. I’m sure. ...You’d feel better if you’d quit wiggling so much.” 

Castiel huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe the goddess has nothing to do with this and I just miss you,” he muttered. 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

“Isn’t it?” Castiel stole a glance over, one hand sliding across the couch to find Lucifer’s. “I do miss you, though… when you go away,” he whispered, looking up again. 

Lucifer sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible. Fine. Come here. Nothing below the waist.” 

Castiel nodded, shimmying across the couch and lying down with his head resting on Lucifer’s lap. He kept his eyes on the screen, focusing on how soothing the cool fingers moving through his hair are and trying to ignore the pressure between his legs. He was tired enough, eyes closing sometime between a discussion of ferns and flowers. Lucifer watched his face while he slept, watched how his brows knitted together and his nose wrinkled up before he tilted his hips in a different way. “Shh, little one. It’s alright,” he whispered easing him back to sleep with a touch of grace and putting handling that meddling goddess somewhere on his to-do list. Later though. Castiel needed him there now. 

Lucifer fell into something like angelic sleep, eyes closed and body relaxed as his mind turned towards an inward quiet. He was surprised by the first press of lips on his neck, eyes opening quickly as he took Castiel’s shoulders and began to push him away. Castiel shushed him that time. 

“It’s over,” he said softly. “I can feel it.” 

A glance at the clock confirmed it, but that only confused Lucifer more. 

“Then what are you doing?” 

“I still love you,” Castiel sighed settling onto his lap. “I still miss you…” 

Lucifer pulled Castiel against him, tilting his head and touching their lips together softly. “I should think you’d be very tired at this point.” 

“Well, I am, but…” 

“In the morning then.” 

“You’ll still be here?” 

“I will.” 

“Promise…?” 

“I promise.” 

Lucifer kissed Castiel’s forehead before lifting him up and carrying him to his bed. Castiel was prepared to sulk but had no opportunity for how Lucifer lay down on the bed beside him. He fell asleep with Lucifer’s arm wrapped firmly around his waist, and in the morning, Castiel woke up just the same.


End file.
